


Oceanic Depths

by Keinna



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Affection, Alternate Universe, Courtship, Curiosity, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt Jack Frost, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Light Angst, M/M, Mating Rituals, Merman Jack Frost, Merman Pitch Black, Minor Injuries, Minor Language Barrier, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-03-30 09:21:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3931510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keinna/pseuds/Keinna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack has never really been that interested in the ocean, it is nice to fly over but with needing to bring winter everywhere, there is no time to admire it.</p><p>At least until a terrible storm brings him crashing head first into the Atlantic and meeting something he never knew existed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Turbulent Seas

Never once has Jack experienced the feeling of freefall and felt nothing but fear. 

He opens his eyes but finds it impossible to move more than that, pain echoing through his entire body. Out of the many years he has been travelling throughout the world, the idea of being struck by lightning did not occur to him. The winter sprite has always thought himself to be above and beyond that, able to get out of the storm, fly high above it without getting much of scratch. 

This storm came so fast. Starting off from the coast of France, there were nothing but clear skies to take in towards North America. The sky is still pitch dark above, rain soaking his body to the bone. He opens his mouth and tries to use his voice, knowing that he needs to call for the wind, his one friend but it is impossible to get any words out. A weak gasp leaves his throat and nothing more, leaving him feeling horribly vulnerable before his body slams into the turbulent waves belonging to the Atlantic Ocean. He manages to hold onto his staff, fingers curling firm around the ancient wood before the ocean plays with him, similar to a cat with a bird. Tossing him about, the currents shoving him underneath the water and keeping him there until he manages to kick his way back to the surface. Everything aches in manners he has never felt, body screaming in pain, trembling and exhausted, as a whimper leaves his throat.

Still he can feel the electricity running up and down his spine, shortening his breath and he can barely keep himself above the waves. He knows in the back of his mind the only reason why he has not blacked out or simply perished is because of what he is. That he is a spirit, so dying from the natural elements would be difficult when he is part of nature. However that hardly means he is invulnerable to the elements out of his control. 

Soon the storm takes a turn for the worst, the air that he is compelled to take in growing more and more difficult, his limbs refusing to work anymore. Fear claws at his throat, he has no idea if he can survive without air. Remains from a human life he barely recalls perhaps, but still, he has always breathed without fail. One thought races through his mind, one that stands out above all the others.

He does not want to die again.

Managing to suck in a breath, he cries out with all his might, “Wind, please!” There is whistling but not the familiar one he knows. This one is harsher, darker, vicious as it bites against his cheeks that are rain and tear stained, stinging them. It dawns on him that he cannot call his friend and hopelessness rushes through his body until one thing races through his mind. If he can manage to wait out the storm, then he can call on the Northern wind. Holding this idea is easier said that it is to actually do. 

Minutes go by and the storm only seems to be growing worse. The waves swell larger, crashing down upon him harder, as though the ocean itself wants to swallow him up to never be seen again. Above the rain comes down to the point he can barely tell which has more water, the ocean he is drowning in or the sky that pouring sheets of rain. Underneath him the current sucks him back underneath the swirling water, and he tries to claw his way to the surface, even letting go of his staff to have a free hand to do so. Yet it is not enough, the waves too huge, too angry, and he snaps his eyes open to watch as another bolt of lightning races across the sky, the only way for him to tell which way is up or down. If not for it, then he would swear he is surrounded by darkness, pressing in at all angles and causing claustrophobia in manners he has never felt before. 

Jack struggles and tries to swim up but is only beaten down further and further down in the alive ocean, until his eyes begins to droop close, black edging around his vision. Faintly he does notice that it is quieter underneath the water, everything muffled and though it feels so caging, it is also peaceful. In a manner, he can appreciate why so many love the ocean, and has first hand seen how pretty it can be. On a beautiful day it is similar to clear ice found in the deep arctic and smoother than glass. Today however, he knows why sailors are so superstitious of the ocean, and one echoes through his head. Red sky at night, sailor’s delight, red sky in morning, sailors take warning. He recalls the sky being a bright crimson before the sun began to rise and cannot help but wonder if he should have done just that, took it as a sign not to set off back to his home. 

Something flickers out of the corner of his eye, and he wonders if he is seeing something, if not having oxygen is causing him to see things. Or if it is debris from the storm still raging all around. His eyes grow heavy, becoming too hard for him to keep open along with the bone-deep ache in his body. 

Everything hurts in ways he has never considered. 

There is a flicker of light, bright enough that it causes his eyes to flicker back open, icy blue eyes flickering around and ignoring the burning of salt water until he spots an anomaly. Confusion races through his mind as he takes in the object in front of him, a good five or so meters, barely visible if not for the lights. His eyes track it, ribbons of light that seem to dance with the currents, a color he cannot distinguish and standing out from the depths. Briefly he thinks about how nice it is to see something pretty, something other than dark before he fades into the unknown. 

Just as he closes his eyes, something crashes into him, sending him reeling deeper, farther and farther into the ocean. He cries out, losing the last bit of air in his lungs that have become impossibly hot, burning from the inside out. Velvet presses against his lips and clawed fingers grip his chin as his mouth is forced open. Rather than tasting salt water though, air is pushed into his lungs, expanding them and bringing sweet relief to the fire. He breathes out with his nose and is fed more of the oxygen he so desperately needs. Moments tick by until the edging unconsciousness is gone and he finds enough strength to see what has him. When he opens his eyes, he reels back in shock, eyes wide, at the glorious sight in front of him. 

A pair of shining golden eyes peer into his own, skin pale and grey in appearance, with short black hair flowing freely around a sharp face and pointed ears. For a moment, the winter sprite is confused to see someone in front of him, and wonders if he is not the only one that had been tossed into the ocean by the storm until he looks down and sees the rest of him. Only half human, where the waist ends, instead of legs is a tail that he would see on a fish. Though more elegant than he has ever seen in his life, swaying and twisting perfectly to stay in front of him. Where the waist becomes scales are a pair of fins that extend out from his back, though appear more like webbed barbs than anything, looking almost like a pair of wings. His eyes drift along the rest of the tail, noting that it must be at least seven feet long, until he finds the end has a jagged fin, wide and imposing. The tail fin reminds Jack of a shark rather than a whale, seemingly more built for speed. Barbs, pure black in color, dot along the length of the tail, going all the way up to where the winged fins begin, starting small from the tail fin to large and imposing near his back. All of the fins shift between gold and silver, seemingly unable to decide on the color. The scales that dot along his shoulders and wrap around his wrists along with the entire tail are at first glance ebony. Until he really looks and sees that they have more to them, deep reds and purples glittering whenever there is a lightning strike from above. Jack is simply in awe, unable to take his eyes off the male in front of him, since that is the one thing he is certain about for sure, this creature is a male.

Time could end and never start again, but Jack would not care as he reaches out to touch the being in front of him. Those sharp eyes take in his gesture before clawed fingers snatch up his hand, soft but stronger than iron, holding him in a grip that surprises the boy who stares with wide eyes at the… Merman, nymph? He has no idea how to even address or what to call the being in front of him that continues to examine him just as closely as he is doing. A faint blue blush appears over pale cheeks and he opens his mouth to apologize only to get a mouthful of water, bringing tears to his eyes and gagging. Eyes narrow and with a low hiss, he finds his lips again covered, the salt water is replaced with refreshing air. Relaxing at having his lungs replenished before moving his head back, instead the winter sprite gives a shaky smile in thanks. 

He is stared at before a smile forms in response, one that shows off razor sharp teeth and almost is enough for fear to trickle back into his system if not for the fact this is the only one keeping him from falling unconscious. Taking in the gills on the sides of the other’s neck, he figures they are the reason behind why he can be given oxygen. The hand holding his own comes under examination next, and he notes that along the top of the wrist that has the thick band of scales is in fact protecting smaller gills there as well. Between fingers is a translucent webbing, and the fingers themselves are abnormally long and tipped with sharp nails, more claws than anything. 

Blinking, he looks back and finally meets the eyes again that seem just as curious as he is. They flicker from his face to his hair, and the other hand reaches out, cautious, and tugs at his white strands. It dawns on him that he has been more or less kissing a merman for air, and his blush gets worse, the words he wants to use are pointless under the water. He finds himself at the mercy of a being who for right now is benevolent. However, one thought goes through his head. 

He does not know how long it will continue being kind. After all, he cannot see much benefit in keeping a drowning spirit alive.

He wants to say his thanks but cannot and wonders how he can communicate. Other than surfacing, he goes to kick upwards when there is a harsh, clicking sound from the male. Not knowing what to do, the winter sprite stares back with an uncertain look, unable to say anything let alone try to communicate back. Seconds go by before he feels his lungs beginning to run out again and hesitantly leans forward, hoping that he will be gifted air once more but this time he is just stared at. 

He freezes, and swallows dryly then tries again and this time there is an understanding and soft lips press against his. Piercing eyes peer into his own, pupils that are already slits become barely visible black lines, cutting through the gold harshly. Jack snaps his eyes close, not wanting to stare into them, not used to having to do such an intimate act just to keep breathing.

Exhaustion runs through his body and it becomes harder to open his eyes. His body is in pain, and the tremors have stopped but now a horrible ache ripples through his muscles. Any and every movement he does has his body twitching, light spasms racing through his limbs. His back especially is a center of pain, throbbing with every light brush of his shirt, and he wonders just how bad his injuries are. Black once again is beginning to edge along his vision until he begins to go limp, not from oxygen deprivation, though he wonders how he can keep breathing if he is unconscious. There is another loud clicking in his ears but the meaning is lost on him just as much as the first time this male made a similar sound. The last thought that lingers in his mind, is if he will wake up again, and if he does, he hopes he can see this merman again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know. I really don't, I was reading some wonderful stories of others in fandoms with characters being mermen, and well. My little mind decided that we need a Merman Pitch Black. Hope you don't mind darlings, I know it's strange. Plus I needed something a bit less heavy then my other story, Fracture, and well, I just started writing at 5 am.
> 
> This is what came out.
> 
> Uhm, this will maybe be 3-4 chapters, but the chapters should be decently long so there is that. I hope this is at least somewhat enjoyable.


	2. Captivating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up in a cave would be horrific for Jack, being too cramped, too uncomfortable, too claustrophobic. 
> 
> But having the company of an odd merman? 
> 
> There are worst places he could wake up in.

He really did not expect to wake up again. 

Slowly, Jack opens his eyes and finds that every ounce of his body aches in manners he has never felt before. He finds himself staring at a wall, and realizes he must be in some sort of cave. It hurts to roll onto his side but he manages to, his back flaring up in pain and hot, and he can barely keep from whimpering. Still he forces to do so in order to continue his observations, noting that he seems to be correct in where he is. Water fills the rest of the cavern expect for the soft sandy bank he lays on. The water is not black like he expects, and instead his already short breath is stolen away at the sight of dozens of clusters of glowing coral swaying in the gentle current. Colors of blue and green light up the water, and he can see little fish darting between them, feeding and nudging at each other.

It takes a moment before he manages to sit up, ignoring the pain to really take in the rest of his surroundings and sees that there is a small pool further on the bank he lays on. Water flows from a large crack in the cavern ceiling, not big enough to climb through, but enough to show weak sunlight. The water seems to be fresh, flowing in a little waterfall to collect in the pool that only seems to be a few feet deep. Plants gather around the edges where the sunlight hits, small ferns mostly though there is a thick carpet of moss completely covering the wall where the water flows against. As he examines his surroundings and tries to reorient himself, there is a splash behind him. Instantly he turns his body though protests against the decision, arms instantly coming up to wind around his chest as a groan leaves him. Shivers race down his spine at the pain pulsing through from the sudden movement he makes, face pinched in agony. 

Tentatively laying onto his side, this time facing the endless water, he watches, holding his breath, as the male from before appears. He is slow to approach, tail barely moving in the water, more floating than swimming, golden eyes peering up at him and glowing more intensely than the coral. His fins are silver this time around, just as pretty as before, flicking just barely until the merman comes to a stop. Jack notices that the bank does not slope at all into the water, instead it seems to be a steep drop off, and the idea that he could have rolled in the frigid depths in his sleep is not comforting. He tries shifting back but cannot when the face of the being responsible for saving him is suddenly close to his own, peering into his eyes. Keeping the rest of his body submerged minus his head, the merman watches his every move, calculating and curious. 

Swallowing, though painful, Jack manages a weak smile and says in a rough voice, “Thanks for saving me.” Eyes narrow, the pupil a harsh line in a sea of gold, before there is a low clicking sound. The response takes him off guard, blinking and a little frown forms and he asks, “Can you not talk?” Again, he is examined though there is no response this time, confirming his suspicions. Though as he takes in the cave, the winter sprite would have to admit it makes sense. After all, it does not appear this male would be able to learn any language living underneath the waves or in caves other than the strange clicks and hisses he makes. “Well, uhm…” He struggles, not knowing what to say or even what to do in such a situation. Biting his lip, his mind races as he tries to figure out a way of explaining himself, or even how he can ask his unlikely savior to take him to dry land, or even out of the cave to the island it clearly belongs to so he can go. 

Long fingers touch his cheek, and he is broken out of his worries instead turning his attention back onto the merman at hand. He is soon captured by the sight of gold eyes, and cannot help but continue staring into them, finding them strange in the best of ways. Though he has been a spirit for many years now, he cannot think of anyone that has mesmerized him so much. Unable to help himself, and maybe just not realizing it, Jack leans closer, and jerks back the moment the male leans up and presses a kiss to his lips. Flustered and sputtering, he flails and nearly falls into the water if not for strong hands gripping his shoulders. Amusement dances in the gaze that held him so intensely moments ago, razor-sharp teeth grinning at him before he is pushed back onto his side. Glaring, cheeks blue from the contact, Jack opens his mouth to complain when the hands move to his chest. Instantly he winces in pain, hissing between clenched teeth and sees for the first time that his shirt is gone. 

Before his blush can intensify he looks down and can barely keep his jaw from falling to the ground. Red jagged lines race from his left shoulder blade down to the middle of his chest, and for a moment he is mystified. His hand hovers over the soon to be scars and examines them, finding that the lines continue. He cannot help but wonder what his back looks like, and for now decides that he would prefer not to know, not wanting to think of the damage done with how badly everything aches. Sighing, he lays more calmly on his side, and looks back to the merman that stares back, smile gone, and for a moment cannot help but wonder if he could have perished in the angry waves. 

“Thank you….” Jack cannot help the words again, and curls up, resting his head on the sand as his eyes begin to slip closed, still exhausted. However one thought has them widening and he sits up, panic in his voice, “My staff! I let go of my staff, I need it!” The merman leans away, startled and cautious though Jack does not care at the moment, his mind on one thing. Without his staff, he will never leave this place. Even if he can communicate his wish to be outside and in the open air, there is no chance he may even be able to call the Northern wind. Not without his staff acting as a beacon for his old friend, and his hands begin to shake. His heart, the odd little thing that still occasionally beats, makes itself known in his chest, loud and hard. 

Hands are on his face, forcing him to stare back into the golden eyes that now seem more silver, and he faintly sees the fins of the merman lighting up and flickering between the two colors as well. Opening his mouth to repeat the words, he soon finds them stuck on his tongue as he keeps staring deeply into those eyes. “Please, I…” The rest of the sentence is forgotten, a fog clouding his mind and he hears the chirps and clicks from before though they seem more human, almost like a voice, lulling him into a calm state. His muscles relax, body ready to slump over if not for the strong grip on him that guides him so he is laying down again. Fingers move to comb through his hair, and Jack finds it impossible to fight, eyes drooping. There is a low sound in his ear, one that is persistent until he mumbles, “My staff…” He hears the sound again, before he has an urge to at least try to communicate before slipping back into darkness. With his finger, he manages to trace a what his curved staff looks like in the sand before everything goes blank. 

The next time he wakes up, it is to the sight of his staff and a large shell that is bigger than any he has ever seen. It is fan-shaped and larger than both of his palms with a collection of seafood inside of it. Within are what appear to be scallops, a tail of an eel, more than a few arms of an octopus and a large piece of fish that has no visible bones or scales on it. Shocked, Jack slowly sits up, wincing in pain but feeling slowly better than the first time he woke up. His fingers curl around the staff first, eager to see if it is his own and is relieved to see that it is. Though a little worse for wear and clearly waterlogged, it is strong as ever. A smile forms on his face and he lets out a long sigh of relief, then realizes just how hungry he is. It is difficult to think about eating when his mouth is so full of sand. Looking about, he remembers the pool of water and drags himself onto his feet. 

Rather than the pulsing pain from before, it is a throb throughout his body as he drags himself over to the freshwater. Sinking onto his knees, he washes off the sand from his face and dunks his head into the pool to rid the salt from his face that has dried and become uncomfortable on his skin. Taking in a few sips before spitting it out to the side, he repeats until the sand is gone from his mouth. Placing his hands into the cool water, he brings them up to his lips. The first drink is so refreshing that he cannot help but be greedy, eagerly dipping his hands back into the pool as he gulps down the water. It washes away the painful salt that sticks in the back of his throat. 

Once his thirst is gone, the winter spirit moves back to the large seashell and takes a seat, staring at the selection in front of him. Not sure what to eat or if he even should, he finds it difficult to ignore the gnawing hunger in the base of his stomach. Picking up a scallop, he places it into his mouth and finds that it is slightly sweet and has just the right amount of salt to it. His mouth waters for more and he eats all of them, then goes onto the octopus but finds it too rubbery. As he goes through each provided seafood, he finds that his favorite is the scallops though the fish is buttery and filling. 

By the time he is finished and more just poking at the rest of the food, is when there is a splash of water that has him looking up to meet the male again. Giving a smile he motions to the staff by his side, “You found it.” The other cocks his head to the side, eyes flickering between his hand then the object before there is a click. One that he figures to be a sort of confirmation. He stares at the sand and gets an idea, remember that this creature responded to drawings, and wonders if words will mean anything to him. Scooting back on the sand, he uses his finger to spell out a few simple words, taking the time since he is writing upside down. “I’m Jack Frost.” He says once he is finished.

Instantly the merman is on the edge of the sandy bank, head tilted and takes in the words he has written. There is a moment, and Jack’s heart sinks when fingers reach up and begin to swipe words into the sand as well, curved and easy to read. ‘Hello, Jack Frost.’ He cannot help but read them outloud, getting excited, eyes widening with the idea of being able to at least have some ways of talking to this merman. 

“Do you have a name?” The other tilts his head to the side, and lets out a clicking sound again, low in his throat and makes Jack quickly rub his hand against the sand. He writes out his question for the merman that takes it in. 

There is a pause, a thoughtful look forming then a quiet hiss leaves his odd companion though he does reply in the sand. ‘Names are not given to just anyone.’

A curious look comes onto Jack’s face and he finds that maybe he does not want to go just yet, not with his body still recovering from the lightning that struck him, and this fascinating male. “Well, what am I supposed to call you?” He makes sure to write as he speaks, then looks back up. 

‘Black.’ 

The simple word makes a frown form and Jack cannot help but look at him, thinking but figures he might as well accept it. “Okay. Black. It’s nice to meet you.” He does not get a response from that, merely those eyes staring at him, and he tries not to blush and looks away, then asks, “Where am I?”

The words flow easily in the sand, and he knows what to ask next, as he reads the crisp cursive, ‘In my home.’ 

“Well I could have told you that.” Clicking his tongue earns him a loud clicking sound that is sharper than before. He lets out a nervous laughing, and this time scribbles down, “How do you know how to read and write? Can you not speak?” Jack waits, feeling excited for what the merman will tell him. He has never really been so curious about other beings, used to spirits that either give him a passing glance or ignore him. Simply talking to someone that is not the wind or on occasion the autumn spirits is refreshing.

‘Books. Many ships have been scattered throughout my territory carrying them. Your language is primitive but easy to understand.’ Black waits a moment, then with his long fingers swipes the sentence away and answers his other inquiry, ‘Speaking is possible, but pointless as of right now.’ This makes a pout form and Jack runs a hand through his hair as he debates on what the reason for that would be.

He is not sure if he will get an actual yes or no, but figures it would not hurt to try. “How come? Wouldn’t talking be easier than writing?” 

A pause, and he is being subjected to those golden eyes while the merman’s body coils along the coral clustered just underneath the sandy overlook Jack sits on, fins glowing a soft silver. ‘Yes. And no. I will not subject you to my voice, yet.’ Raising an eyebrow, Jack opens his mouth and goes to write in the sand again when Black is already wiping away the sand and writing, ‘Your ears may bleed.’

The winter sprite stares in surprise, hesitating then nods and mumbles, “O-Oh. Well. Yeah, I guess it’s a good thing that I don’t hear your voice then.” He thinks about what else to ask when instead there is a question for him instead for once.

‘Did you enjoy the meal?’

Quickly nodding, he smiles, “Yes, it was really good. Though I don’t care for octopus.” Black takes in the words written, that same calculating expression on his face before there is a click, one that the boy is certain means to be a sort of “yes” in the native language belonging to this being. The merman seems curious himself since he begins to write his own questions. 

Easy ones to answer, such as what he likes to eat, where he was going, what he is, how he could travel with no boat. Then there are harder ones, asking why he has white hair that looks like icebergs, how long he has been a winter spirit, and why the staff is so important to him. The last one he decides to show rather than explain, making delicate ice patterns on the sand for his savior to see. The sea creature reels back, fins flaring out and glowing an intense gold. A color that has Jack staring in awe, amazed at the gorgeous sight of all the fins extended and fanned out behind him, making him appear imposing and deadly. Once he puts down the staff, Black stares at him very intently and the wing-like barbed fins on his back relaxing while his shark-like tail fin goes back to being silver like the rest. Jack goes to apologize but instead there is a soft, baritone noise, different from the clicks and hisses from before. One that makes a blush form and he shifts on his seat then puts his weapon down beside him. 

Before he can even try to figure out a sentence to write in the sand, instead the merman beats him to it. ‘Thank you for showing me, Jack.’ There is a pause, the male seemingly thinking before he swipes away the sentence then writes out, ‘I will return with another meal. You need to keep your strength up.’ Before he can manage to say a thing, Black twists and he is in awe at the graceful movements Black makes. His fins all light up in a bright silver hue, captivating him, and it is only once he is gone that Jack shakes his head, hoping to clear his head. He debates on what to do, then figures he might as well examine his current home, though cannot keep his mind off his savior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to admit, I'm really surprised by the response this little strange tale has gotten. Thank you so much, darlings!
> 
> This is by far the longest chapter I've ever written for any story. So I hope that it was worth the wait and is up to everyone's standards.
> 
> I think this might actually be 4 or 5 chapters long, but we shall see.


	3. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the most strange, seemingly dark situations, Jack sees that there is almost always a bright light.
> 
> Most just do not come in the form of a living myth.

It has been a few days since he had been swept away into a large sea cave, that is in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. It did not take long to look explore the rest of the cavern, though in his time of being a guest, Jack has figured out two things. One, there is more than enough space for him to recover his strength, and two, he has a rather gracious host.

Black is always providing at least two meals for him, one in the morning and one at night with little snacks in between. And even though they are two completely different beings, one bound to the sea, and one constantly being called to the sky, there is more than enough common ground between them. Jack has learned much about the merman, not even from their talks which are still basic and getting to learn one another, but from his mannerisms. Always Black has a piercing gaze, and rarely really blinks. Also his fins can change between two colors, silver and gold, though he has yet to really figure out all the reasons for which color, he does know enough. Silver is usually for when he is content, curious, or playful, while gold is for when he is startled, irritated and what Jack can figure, upset. He has begun to understand some of the clicks and whistles, and perhaps most importantly, his savior is a rather curious being.

Breaking out of his musings, Jack finishes with taking another drink of water from the fresh water pool before slowly walking back to the edge of the bank. Unable to help but wince, he lets out a low hiss, his body aching with every movement he dares to make. Not only does his muscles throb, but everything feels off when he walks. Almost as though he cannot quite stand upright without concentrating on moving his feet step by step to keep from ending up face first in the sand. He figures it has been at least three or four days since arriving but his body still has yet to really recover, if at all. Since taking off his shirt and examining his skin, he has come to realize that he has seemingly permanent scarring on his shoulder from where the lightning bolt struck him, and all the way down his back. At least, that is what he can make out from using the pool of water as a mirror.

Just as he begins to worry about just how much damage the strike may have done, the merman returns, quiet as ever and places down a large scallop shell. Smiling, Jack says, “Thank you.” A low click and head tilt is what he gets in return. His hand goes to the sand to write his simple sentence, though he adds at the end, one he has been wanting to ask since meeting the being, “If you can speak, why don’t you understand what I say out loud?” His fingers then go to the shell, and is excited to find more delicate scallops inside along with something he has been seeing in the last few days. An odd leafy seaweed or kelp that he nibbles on the end and finds that though there is a bitterness to it, it is not exactly as bad as it had been the first day. It is fresh, tasting like the ocean, crisp and clean with a tiny bit of salt. Really it reminds him of some of the tart fruits he has had, like a pomegranate only less sweet. As he enjoys his meal, he turns his attention to the words being written. 

‘Though I know your written language, your spoken one is difficult to understand. I have never talked to anyone of the land or sky.’ It clicks then for Jack, and he really takes in the male in front of him who stares back. 

He muses out loud, “I didn’t really think of it that way. It would be hard to know what I’m saying if you’ve never heard what each letter or word is supposed to sound like or be.” The large tail fin breaks the the surface, a violent sound that startles him, and sees the irritated look on the other’s face. With a nervous chuckle he writes and says, “Sorry, I’m not trying to be rude.” He waits a moment then wipes away the words and continues in his own messy writing, “I was just musing to myself that I understand why it would be hard for you to speak English.” 

Black seems to relax at this and bobs his head up and down before replying, ‘I see.’ There is a pause and a thoughtful look before more words are swirled into the sand this time a question. ‘How did you end up in my territory, Jack Frost?’ The winter spirit takes a moment to pick at the kelp, finding that he actually likes the taste with each new bite. 

Using his freehand so that he does not get sand in his meal, he responds, “Well I was flying to America from France. Everything looked clear, until that storm came out of nowhere and I….” A blush forms on his face at how silly he knows this sounds, ducking his head as he writes out the last words smaller than the first, “Got struck by lightning.” It is mortifying in a way he is not used to, having to admit his failures to others, especially when he rarely talks to others. He finds it easier to be a loner, even though the Guardians have tried in the past to get him to agree to join their ranks he refuses every time. Though there are the pangs of loneliness he experiences at times, he finds it difficult to want to be apart of a group that has only in a recent one hundred years taken notice of him. Have suddenly decided to try and be friends with him, talk to him, acknowledge that he even exists in the first place. A hand touches his cheek, and a low whistle has him snapping his attention back to the sharp features of Black who watches with unblinking eyes. 

The blush gets worse and he turns his gaze to the neat sentence in the sand, trying to ignore the cool touch on his face. ‘Struck and still alive. That is not an easy accomplishment.’ Unable to help the little scoff but still smiling a touch, Jack shakes his head.

“Maybe. I’m a winter spirit, I can’t control storms, but I still am one with the elements.” Swallowing the rest of the kelp, he goes onto the rest of his provided meal, making sure to eat almost everything provided with the exception of a few limbs from an octopus. Those are still too rubbery yet always they are in his scallop shell. “So what are you, Black? Does your species have a name, other than a merman?” The last word has a scowl forming and the sea creature moves his arm away, and begins to float leisurely in the water, long tail twisting about to keep afloat. Fins flash gold before settling on silver, the light low and adding to the beauty of the blue and green coral that sway in the current.

Folding his pale arms on the bank, the male seems to think before he flicks his clawed finger against the bank, ‘That is the more insulting name I have heard. I am not a man. A male, yes, but not a human.’ Those ever calculating eyes return to him, waiting and when the spirit gives a nod, he continues with his answer to the question, ‘There are many things humans have called my kind. Havfine, Rusalka, Siren.’ Jack tilts his head to the side, and waits, hoping to learn what to really call those that are similar to Black. There is a pause before the other finally writes out, ‘However, we really have no name.’ This instantly makes a pout form and Jack looks at the being in front of him, a little confused.

“No name? But wouldn’t it be better to call yourselves something?” There is something akin to a shrug, and a series of short clicks from his host.

‘What is the point of naming ourselves? I know what I am, just as much as others of my kind do. Giving a name would be pointless when we are solitary in nature.’ This is enough for the spirit to pause and click his tongue. A sound that has Black’s eyes instantly on him though he ignores the look, growing used to the always intensity and weight belonging to this sea creatures gaze.

Seeing the chance to ask more about his kind, Jack is careful as he asks his next question, “Have you never thought about giving yourself a name? In terms of your kind, I mean. Are you always solitary?” 

‘I stand by what I said. There is no point. Why give my kind a name if I can never speak that name to those of the land and sky?’ Taking in the words and seeing their logic has Jack admitting that his savior really cannot be argued with. ‘As for being alone, yes, mostly. Pairs do happen, mating pairs that is, though they are rare.’ Instantly Jack is about to write out his next simple inquiry but he is beaten by a sharp hiss and stops, looking back to the merman who already knows what he wants to ask. ‘It is difficult for my kind to find another good enough to be a companion. One has to have…’ Brow furrowing, the male stops mid-sentence and taps against the ground. His tail swishes and curls in the water, attempting to find the right wording before sighing and finishing, ‘Certain qualities.’

The winter spirit takes in everything, thinking and wants to ask more questions, them on the tip of his tongue when he spots the look on the other’s face. One that is almost guarded and he decides to volunteer more information about himself. “Uhm…” He mumbles, and quickly writes before Black slaps his tail against the water again, not wanting to upset him by talking without putting any words down, “Well I’m also solitary myself. I’m a winter spirit, as you’ve seen, and well, most don’t care for my element, so I usually stick to myself.” The irritation smooths away, replaced by a look of wonder and a head tilt.

Long claws scrape against the sand in a slow pace this time, as though the words are not quite thought out yet, ‘Do you decide to be so, or would you rather have company?’ A question that Jack has been pondering to himself for many years now. His shoulders slump a little and he messes with the sand, swirling little snowflakes and ferns into it, thinking. While he does not mind being alone, there are times it weighs on his shoulders not having anyone but the wind and occasional autumn spirits to talk to. Though he could go to the Guardians and try to join them, become a family that everyone talks about, he just does not feel he would ever fit in. 

Not with the jaded years of only having the Northern wind and having the responsibilities of winter for company, and said task of bringing winter to all on his shoulders for so long. Recently other spirits have begun to talk to him, not sneering at him like they had when he was younger and much more reckless. He can still remember eagerly wrecking the spring flowers trying to push through the snow and appearing in the middle of summer with cooler weather to get attention. All in the attempts to get others to see him, give him company he craved and wanted, and rarely got. He is not angry though, and he never was since now looking back during his first hundred or so years of life, he knows he was a pest. A winter spirit wanting to be seen so badly that he did anything to get even a passing glance, even if it was one of irritation. Now though, he simply does his job then moves onto the next country or region, content but not really happy or sad. Just… A snowflake going wherever the wind decides.

Finally he decides that he needs to be truthful, and puts down, fingers hesitant in the letters, “Sometimes. Yes. I don’t mind being alone, but I do wish to talk to someone or maybe even… Be, with someone.” It feels strange, almost damning, to speak such private wishes out loud. Jack pulls his hand away from the sand and feels too exposed, fingers running through snow white hair as he gets up and feels the need to pace. His steps are wobbly, but he ignores his aches, wanting to at least put a little distance, just a few feet if possible, between himself and the heavy stare belonging to the merman. 

The sound of water splashing almost is enough for him to look back to the other but he is not ready to face those personal questions again. It feels wrong in a way, for him to admit that he might get lonely at times, not to a stranger that he barely knows and has only been talking to for less than a week. Taking a breath, he readies himself to face more questions when clicking and whistles fill the cavern and he nearly sways at the soothing sounds. His body relaxes, and a sense of calm washes over him, eyes drifting shut, letting the sound pull him back to the edge of the water. Before he realizes it, a hand is cupping his face, and another in his hair, stroking and getting out all tangles. Eyes that are impossible to say what color they are, only that they are bright and gleaming peer into his, the once familiar clicking and chirps becoming something else, almost tangibly human. The previous embarrassment and minor anger at himself is washed away, the emotions are replaced by a peacefulness he has not felt in quite some time. His muscles in his shoulders relax, and he lets himself be urged into a laying position. 

Then the spell is broken, those eyes blinking finally and he realizes that just like the first day, he has been coerced into a relaxed state. A little frown tries to form, but as the fingers in his hair trail down to touch his rounded ears and neck free of gills, he sighs and finds it hard to be upset. “Not fair that you can do that.” Black tips his head to the side but shows no anger or annoyance when he does not write anything down, and continues to touch his face then goes back up to his hair, combing through it. Finding that he really does not mind the attention, and just maybe likes it, Jack reaches out to touch short black locks. An action that has the fins of the merman lighting up, at first gold, but then fading into their content silvery hue. Something that makes a smile form on Jack’s face as he touches the now dry and ruffled hair. It is soft, softer than it should be, and he finds himself tangling his fingers in it. He wonders for a moment if he should stop but that thought slips away just as quick as it came, too content with the own claws gliding over his scalp. He might as well return the favor. 

With his free hand, he writes and asks, voice barely above a murmur, “Do you ever get lonely?” Fingers stop in his hair as a ghost of a frown coming onto the merman’s face. There is silence, then the answer he hears comforts him a bit more than it should, he receives a single click, one that he knows to be a yes. “I’m sorry. Maybe you’ll find one of those, what did you call them? Companions?” He is given a nod of the head, and sees something in those sharp eyes, an emotion he cannot read before it is gone and claws start up again, scraping just lightly against his scalp, getting out the deep tangles hiding there.

One word is written down for him, ‘Perhaps.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These chapters really write themselves. I may have to do another strange AU like this one of Jack or Pitch being some crazy mythology creature. 
> 
> I'm glad that so many are enjoying this though, I'm shocked at the warm reception this strange, strange fic has gotten so far.
> 
>  
> 
> ..... I may or may not be pondering about a Naga AU.


	4. Freeing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he really sits down to think, in the quiet of the cavern while the water laps at the sand and the wind whistles above, he ponders about how large the ocean is. 
> 
> And that it may be just as big as the sky.

Fingers card through his hair, a sensation that the young spirit has become very used to, and finds that he enjoys the little touch. With a yawn, he opens both of his eyes and turns them onto Black who watches with an ever calm look on his face. Giving a small smile and lifting his head up from his arms which he is used to using as a pillow, he murmurs a greeting. A low click is given to him in return, one that he chuckles at and shakes his head at, becoming used to the odd way his friend responds. 

By now he is not entirely certain how long he has been at this safe haven, and in a way, he is beginning to wonder if he actually does want to leave. It is just a thought in the back of his mind, one that is taking more and more root though there is one thing he longs for, and that is to be able to roam again. Yet the idea of leaving to never see this male, the one that has given him undivided attention and has provided so much, saved his life even, is one that he hates to think about. The long digits in his hair tug harder than before and bring his attention back onto the curious eyes, and he gives a weak smile. He writes down in the sand, mumbling, “Sorry, I just... “ He stops and stares down at the sentence, not entirely sure how to end it then finally tacks on to finish it, “Feeling a bit stir crazy. How long have I been here, do you know?”

Black takes in the words spelled out to him, then looks back up, calculating gaze examining his face before there is the click he knows to be an agreeing one. With his free hand, the merman writes in that neat cursive, ‘Half a moon cycle now.’ Words that make Jack wonder why he has not quite felt right since falling out of the sky, his back and shoulder still throbbing on occasion along with his legs. With a little frown he sighs and sinks back against the sandy bank, pillowing his head on his arms again. The feeling of melancholy that has been plaguing his mind is back in full force and Jack finds that he is torn. There is a shrill sound, short and enough to have his eyes snapping back to the worried face on the merman’s face. Once his attention is back on him, an elegant finger is in the sand, ‘Why are you sad?’ The corner of his mouth tips up at the concern being offered, his heart giving a little flutter, one that he cannot help and is finding that he does not mind. 

Shrugging and watching the sea creature, he debates on what to say, or if he should say on his mind, but he is already writing, “I think I need to leave for a bit. Just get out of the cave for a while, maybe take in the fresh air or something.” A thoughtful look forms then there is a nod before the hand in his hair is gone, instead wrapping around his wrist, tugging. Confused he pulls away, warily looking at the water that while seems calm and gentle now, still the light blues and greens from the bio luminescent coral. 

Yet he recalls how violent the waves can become, twisting and angry at a moments notice. 

A hand cups the side of his cheek, before lips are suddenly against his, still feeling like velvet that has a blush burning on his cheeks. Swallowing and frozen in the hold of this older being, the winter spirit is not sure what to do. Teeth nibble on his lip and Jack finds himself being swept up in the kiss, fingers reaching up to tangle into feather-soft hair. The feelings of sadness are gone, swept away within moments at the affection he is still trying to become used to. He returns the kiss, and leans over the edge of the bank to continue, hoping to keep it going and make it less awkward. Fingers move into his hair as well, combing through the white strands then an arm is around his waist. 

The next thing he knows is that he is pulled completely into the water. Yelping against the soft lips, and flailing in surprise, Black has a grip that is firm and unbreakable. Practically laying on top of the merman who floats on his back, he uses his tail to keep them both afloat, flicking and moving it as needed. Swallowing and breaking the kiss, wide eyes meet amused, half-lidded silver ones before a nip is given to his bottom lip. A soothing sound leaves the merman, and the familiar calmness begins to sweep over his shoulders and mind though he dives down to continue the kiss. Nails scrape against his scalp and he sinks more into the sure hold he is in as he sees he will not sink into the water. Hesitant but wanting to get a little more comfortable, he straddles Black’s waist, legs dipping into the water and finding that the coolness is beyond refreshing. Letting out a sigh of relief at the cold he did not realize he is missing, and pulls away though is given a little bite on his lip. 

Blinking down at him, he is not entirely sure what to do, blue blush bright on his cheeks, he opens his mouth to ask what brought this on but stops. Even if he did say what was on his mind, the words would not be understood. Before he can say anything else, he is waist deep in the water and gasps, wrapping his arms around strong shoulders. Fingers run over his cheek before he is being pulled toward the mouth of the cavern. Nervousness flickers in his eyes and he looks at Black who stares back, calm as ever, and leans forward to press their lips together again. When he opens his mouth, fresh oxygen is delivered to his lungs, and it dawns on him that if he is to go out into the open water he will not be left to flounder or drown. Relaxing, he nods and breaks the kiss, exhaling then takes in a deep breath before sinking completely into the water. 

The moment that he is underneath, an arm wraps around his body in a secure hold, and water rushes past his ears and face. The salt burns, his eyes snapping shut from the sting, and focuses on the feeling of being propelled so seamlessly in the ocean. It only feels like moments before they come to a stop, and the winter sprite tentatively opens his eyes, wincing a little but growing used to the salty water all around. Blinking a few times, he turns about, and swallows, running out of air already when lips are against his once more. More air is pushed into his lungs, and a smile forms onto his face before the merman swims away, not far, but enough for him to look around. He looks up to see that the surface is close, the sunlight filtering through the water and is tempted to swim up to taste the fresh air. 

Before he can though, there is a flicker of light, one that has his eyes turning back towards the male that is swimming in slow circles, fins flaring out and flashing in brilliant patterns of gold and silver. The wing-like barbs on his back are fanned out and streaming through the water as though it is air. He cannot tear his eyes away, floating in the water, suspended and the need for oxygen is shoved away from his mind. The only thing he can focus on is this male in front of him who is by far the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. With a flick of the wide tailfin, Black begins to go faster, no longer just swimming in a circle but spinning and twisting, colors becoming blurred together in a gorgeous show that makes his scales of ebony, scarlet and violet shine as they reflect the light.

He could watch this for hours and feel that only seconds have gone by as the male moves closer, within arms reach, now circling him, the delicate tissue on the fins just brushing against his skin. Jack cannot help the gasp leaving him, letting loose more of his precious oxygen but he does not even care at this moment, too enchanted. Unable to help himself, an urge to make sure that this merman is real, he reaches out, fingers brushing over the twisting tail. The moment that he does, there is a stillness from the other and it is then that the winter spirit realizes that he is completely wrapped up in the tail and fins of his savior. His heartbeats rapidly in his chest, and then eyes are in front of him, a mix of metallic colors before lips are on his to feed him more oxygen. 

Once he opens his mouth to receive the sweet air, that long tail coil around his legs, bringing him impossibly closer. Out in the open water, Jack finds it amazing just how large Black is when compared to anything he has seen before, wrapped up in the merman. He relaxes when an arm wraps around his waist and another runs through his hair then cups the back of his neck. Those feelings of melancholy from before have vanished without a trace, and the idea of staying just like this, in the water with this sea creature is becoming more and more appealing. Deepening the kiss, tongues meeting for one of the first times and it is a jolt that has the younger spirit pressing closer, arms coming up to wind around lithe shoulders. His fingers run through soft hair then trail down to the scales dotting along pale grey skin, feeling how smooth they are against his fingertips. 

The kiss is broken, and the two stare at one another, the younger gives a slow smile that is returned, showing off sharp teeth. Lips press along his jaw and cheek, those teeth scraping against his skin, almost like little bites that make that blush from before come back. Never does the skin break underneath the pressure, at most, he can imagine seeing little bruises in the freshwater pool back at the cavern. Rather than pushing away, he presses forward, enjoying the strange touches that he is being given. Eyes fluttering shut, he simply takes in being held so tightly but never before has he felt so free before. While there is hardly anything that can beat the Northern wind wrapping him up in its embrace, this is something he can get used to. He loves the wind, it has been his friend for so long but this is warmer, more comforting than what his friend can offer. This physical touch, the actual conversation, being able to even argue with someone and laugh, it is all new to him. Not when he can do all of these things and not have to fear being scorned or shooed away after a few hours.

Nearly boneless in the grip, his brain is swimming with the knowledge that he is actually safe in the arms keeping him in a firm grip, the foreign fins all around will never harm him. He feels happier than he ever has, he realizes. 

Suddenly the teeth move to nibble on his earlobe instead, and a baritone voice is right next to his ear, “My name is Pitch Black.” His eyes snap open and Jack nearly jerks back completely, eyes big as he meets those ever-shifting eyes that watch him. 

He opens his mouth only to choke on the water, wincing in pain at the salt washing over his tongue. Instantly lips cover his own, replenishing the air that he loses in those few seconds then they are gone just as fast, a pair of eyes watching him while a smirk forms on the other's face. Pouting, Jack tries to convey the shock and amazement in his expression, emotions that are understood by the click he is given. “This, talking, in your….” There is a long pause, a thoughtful look forming, and whistles leave the male, the ocean dweller struggling before he finds a word to use, “Speech, is difficult.” The vowels are said a bit too long, hanging in the words in an abnormal way, but there is a rush of glee, that all his talking out loud has been paying off. 

A thought runs through his mind, and Jack motions to his ears, recalling that he was told hearing the voice, rather than just noises, from this male would cause his ears and eyes to bleed. Pitch Black watches, not blinking, taking in each gesture then states, “Above water, yes. Here, no.” In these moments, he feels special, in a way that he has never felt before and cannot help the silly little grin on his face. “May I sing to you, Jack Frost?” An odd request, one that has a curious look forming though he bobs his head up and down eagerly. The sound that leaves this being of the sea is difficult to describe, a sound that he has not heard from him before. It is calming like the other times he has heard this voice, but rather than being sleepy, he merely feels at home and presses closer against the male. It is a haunting yet hopeful melody that sends shivers along his spine and he wants to ask what it is about, feeling a swell of emotions bubbling up in his chest as it goes on.

Though he is not quite ready to admit it, he thinks that it may be possible the freedom within the ocean, may be just as vast as the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a bit short. I was having some difficult with it. Let's just say that I have a very interesting internet browser history right now from looking up fish and their mating rituals. 
> 
> I hope it was worth it though, loves. I'll try to update Fracture hopefully tomorrow. 
> 
> And yes, I'm still thinking about that Naga AU. Though if anyone has a suggestion on other mythical creatures, let me know. I'll see if any catch my eye.


	5. "Yes"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack realizes he has much to learn about his mysterious savior, and he is just scratching the surface. 
> 
> Unknown to Jack though, his savior is just as curious about him. 
> 
> If not more so.

Going out into open water becomes something that Jack looks forward to nearly everyday. After being brought his usual meal in the morning, he slips into the water with Pitch, eager to go back out into the ocean and within minutes they are. The salt no longer burns his eyes and the cold water reminds him of the sky when high above the clouds. He learns to hold his breath for nearly four minutes before his lungs start to burn with the need for oxygen. While being able to move through the water is amazing in itself, the sight of the merman twisting effortlessly in the ocean is a favorite sight. 

Yet in the past few days, or what he thinks has been days, he has been noticing that the merman is off for longer periods of time. Rather than Jack waking up to his hair being stroked with Pitch coiled up at the sharp dropoff that separates the beach and water, he has been gone. Where, he is not entirely sure and whenever he asks, all he gets is a thoughtful and calculating look before the subject is changed. Something that makes him pout every time, wondering if perhaps there is something else the sea creature has to attend to. What he is not sure, not with the information of knowing that the merman’s kind are solitary in nature. Thoughts and questions rattle around in his head and he turns to face the water just as the male on his mind comes up, swimming through the water and already coiling himself at the edge. Instantly he begins to write in the sand, “Is there someone in your territory? Is that where you have been going off to?” 

Golden eyes turn up, thinking, before there is a reply, ‘No, I have been patrolling and scouting.’ This instantly makes the younger curious, eyes wide and filling with wonder, an expression that has a smile with too many teeth forming. 

“How large is your territory anyway, Pitch?” Just writing and saying his name out loud makes the winter spirit giddy. 

A click sounds through the cavern then more words are put down, ‘The entire north Atlantic Ocean belongs to me.’ His mouth drops open at the information in front of him. His mind is whirling with how large the ocean is, finding it difficult to believe that so much territory can possibly belong to one soul. Chortling, the merman writes down, ‘I am very old, Jack Frost. I have earned my home.’ The long finger leaves the sand to instead point out faint, dark scars, claw marks that are jagged but faded with time on a grey torso. He stares as the long tail is lifted from the water, droplets cascading down the wide fluke and clawed fingers point out the missing or broken barbs that run along the back of his tail. Once finished, that long tail is submerged and more words are etched to be read, ‘Most territories of my kind are large. At least the size of a sea.’

The idea is one that is fascinating to the winter spirit. The thought that every time he crosses the ocean, he is more than likely passing over the home of one of these secret creatures. “Wow.” Running a hand over his chin, he winces at the sharpness of his own nails, and figures it is time for a cut of them along with his hair. “Do you often see others of your kind?” There is a long pause, the merman looking thoughtful before a long finger is writing out another sentence.

‘No. We are very territorial and possessive. However, a territory can be shared between companions and if any nestlings come from the yearly joinings.’ Eagerness forms on his face at the idea of being able to get more information about these reclusive and mysterious beings. 

All sorts of questions come into his head and he cannot help but say them, writing becoming messy as he attempts to get them all out, “What do you mean by that? ‘Nestlings’ and ‘yearly joinings’?” He cannot help himself and ask, “Have you ever had a companion before?” Gold-silver eyes peer at him, an amused glint in them as the male takes in the words on the ground. 

Pitch pauses before he writes down, ‘Once I answer all of these questions, I have my own to ask you.’ Not minding in the least, the winter spirit nods with a smile and watches as the hand wipes away the sentence. ‘No, I have not had a companion before. Most only have one, perhaps two, in their long life. Nestlings are what our young are called.’ This has a thoughtful look forming and the boy is already writing in the sand.

“But isn’t that a word used for birds?” A dry look forms onto the other’s face and Jack gains a small blue blush on his cheeks. “Sorry, I can’t help it. You answer one question but then another one pops into my head.” 

There is a shake of the head but the male indulges him, ‘Simple, our young nest with their sire and carrier until they are ready to find their own territory.’ There is a long pause then more words are put down, ‘Usually they are ready to leave after they have seen between three to four hundred lunar eclipses. Each nestling is different, some eager to find their own space, others more timid to do so.’ Jack blinks and has to think, finding that the aging for the merpeople really must be different. It is difficult to wrap his mind around the idea of a child, or nestling, not being ready to leave until over a century has passed. ‘My kind have a small window of time to have young, it is during the harvest moon that carriers become fertile.’ The blush grows larger at the idea and Jack cannot help but want to ask more due to these odd terms.

“What-”

A sharp whistle sounds through the air, cutting him off and he stops, blinking and stares at the elder who gives a dry look. He glances away and scratches his cheek with a weak chuckle, “Sorry. Too many questions.” Motioning to the bank, the spirit can barely keep the excitement off his face, waiting for whatever it is that his savior has to say. 

‘Yes. Full of eagerness and excitement, but I wouldn’t expect less, Jack Frost. Now allow me to ask my questions, and I shall continue to answer yours.’ Bobbing his head up and down, he readies himself for whatever it is that is going to be written down. ‘You are a winter spirit. Are there others such as yourself?’

Nibbling on his lip, he debates on what to say and tentatively begins, “Well, uhm, no. There are different kinds of winter spirits, but not another like… Me.” His brow furrows and he nibbles on his lip, “Does that make sense at all?” That click he knows to be one of disagreeing has him attempting to explain better, tapping his finger on the sand as he debates on what to write. “Mmm, let me put it this way. There are different kinds of winter spirits, that are the same species in a way. Wendigo are all the same, tall monstrous humanoids with antlers, pale skin and razor-sharp teeth. Yuki-Onna are all similar, beautiful women with long black hair.” He shrugs his shoulders, waiting so that the merman can take in the words then continues, “But there is only one Jack Frost. I was human once, a really long time ago.” This has fins lighting up at first golden before fading into soft silver as an unreadable expression forms. 

Arms fold on the bank with the male resting his head on them, ‘So you are unique.’ He has to laugh a little at this and shrugs his shoulders. A look of disapproval forms and there is a low whistle then more words are put on the ground, ‘To me, you are Jack Frost.’ Glancing off to the side, cheeks now burning with the odd compliment. ‘What do you miss the most away from this place?’

“Thank you.” He stops when he reads the next thing to respond to and hesitates. What does he miss most outside of this cave and the ocean? He clicks his tongue, debating on what to say and finds it is actually more difficult than it perhaps should be. “I… Don’t really know. I would say the sky, I think. But the ocean is like the sky, it’s freeing though in a different way. I just wish I could swim like you.” There is a flicker of something in Pitch’s eyes that go between gold and silver and the colors mix into a brilliant hue. 

Clawed fingers scratch against the sand then words are slowly etched into the bank, ‘You have another question.’ 

Jack tips his head to the side, “Those are the only ones you have for me?” 

‘No. But I can see you’re eager to ask me more, so do so.’

It is only after a small moment of hesitation before the boy is writing again, unable to keep himself from wanting to know everything possible about Pitch’s kind. “You said something earlier, sires and carriers, I think? That’s an interesting way to say male and female. So does that mean you’re a sire?” The terms are foreign yet fascinating to try and decode and understand.

Eyes narrow a touch, tail slashing through the water, ‘Yes, if I was to have a companion, I would be the sire.’ The wording makes Jack pause and gain a bewildered look, and has to stop.

“What do you mean you ‘would be’? You’re a male, so if you were to get with a female-” A low chuckle leaves the other who begins to float on his stomach, tail lazily moving through the water. Eyes are now decidedly silver as they peer up at him with a small smirk that shows off fangs. 

‘Who said I had to be with a female? A male can be a carrier.’ Jack stops and looks down at the sentence, lips pressing together with confusion running over his face. It is a difficult to swallow and the merman seems to understand and continues, ‘There are not many of my kind, so when finding a companion, one will become the sire and the other carrier if nestlings are wanted.’ 

Both amazed and dazed with the idea of such a concept, the young spirit tries to wrap his mind around such a concept. “How is that even decided? I can get if there’s a girl involved but if there are two men or women….” He trails off and runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head, “I’m trying, I really am but it’s just odd.” 

Patiently the elder explains, ‘Dominance if needed. Some would prefer to be the carrier, others are indifferent and some pairs cannot decide and will fight until one submits.’ Scratching his head as the flush on his cheeks comes back with vengeance, Jack hesitates on the next question he wants to ask. Even if there is a fight, he cannot see how the unnamed beings can decide on which partner does what when their genitals would be male or female no matter what. However Pitch seems to catch on and is already responding to the unasked inquire, ‘Females can be sires and males can be carriers. There is a reason why joinings take place during the harvest moon after all.’ 

He stares and repeats, slowly, “So…. You mean that it depends on the companions to decide who is what if they want kids?” Pupils narrow into slits as the male listens very intently to the words, going through them to insure he grasps what the young spirit is attempting to tell him. Once he has filtered through the information he lets out his low click then reaches out, fingers wrapping around thin wrists. A pout forms on his face, “I’m not done asking you things Pitch.” He only gets a roll of the eyes and a series of whistles and teeth clicks as he is pulled into the water. Not that he can complain in the least, smiling instead and lets himself be pulled against the merman. For now he decides to be content with the information given, especially with his head swimming with the idea of companions and nestlings.

The water is pleasantly cold and he sighs in contentment as the sea creature swims closer to the underwater cave that leads to the open water. Rather than going out into the ocean though, he is wrapped up in the fins that begin to flash colors and is held above the water long enough to take in a deep breath. The moment he does, is when he is pulled underneath and cannot help but smile as they sink to the bottom, Pitch curling up around him. Arms are around him and lips press against his in a gentle kiss, one that has him sighing in contentment and reaching up to run his fingers through soft hair. The kiss stays slow, tongues meeting in an unhurried dance, fingers pressing along his cheeks and then up to his own hair. Time could stop for all Jack cares, not minding when he is pressed against the sandy bottom, a tail winding around his legs while winged fins fan out, the barbs looking innocent in the glowing coral. 

Just as he really begins to fall into the pleasant haze, the kiss is broken and the hand on his cheek strokes over his lips while a little frown forms. He blinks and looks at the merman, tilting his head to the side, hoping he can convey the puzzlement he feels. At first he is merely stared at, and he purses his lips, leaning up to try and kiss him again but is denied. Using his tongue to make a loud click, he tries to show the irritation on his face. Eyes peer at him, sharp features smoothing into a calmness, “Jack.” Instantly this grabs his attention, blinking up at him, wondering if something is wrong. Never has this being used just his first name, always it has been his full name together. “I want you to be my companion.” Though the words are odd, vowels still too long and odd sounding, he understands perfectly clear. 

His eyes widen at the statement, mouth nearly falling open if not for the thumb rubbing against his lips. All around there is rapid movement, fins fanning out and the colors of silver and gold light up the water. Just when he thought that the merman could not be more beautiful, he has been proven wrong yet again. The water swirls around, stirring the coral and reflecting so many different colors, greens, blues and silver and gold are all that he sees, air catching in his throat as all he can do is stare in awe. Lips brush so lightly against his, eyes that flash between two colors that seem to mix and clash together, making it impossible to look away. “Jack.” 

Finally, he manages to let out a click, an almost perfect mimic of the one he knows so well by now. 

‘Yes.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is wondering, 300-400 lunar eclipses is anywhere from 150 to 200 years. There are at least 2 lunar eclipses a year but can be up to 6. 
> 
> Also, I'm not sure if I should include Jack and Pitch having "nestlings", I'm more just making lore as I go and love doing so. I don't know if I will or not, it some express interest in it, I might.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, darlings and thank you for reading.


	6. Quiet Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idea of not being lonely anymore, of not being shooed away or scoffed at is too tempting to let go.
> 
> So Jack decides to take one last leap of faith, and take a dive into the deep ocean.

Dipping his feet into the water, Jack stares at the water as little fish come up to his toes to poke and nibble at them. A smile forms and he wiggles them at times before looking towards the entrance of the cavern, curious as to where Pitch is. He has not seen the male in nearly a day, not since telling him he would become his companion, a decision he does not regret in the least. He thinks about what he might miss, the frozen mountains, stirring up gentle snowfalls and occasional blizzards, the Northern wind, all being a large part of his life yet he is willing to trade it all away. Trade it for the chance of having someone to talk to, to learn from and most importantly be looked at with affectionate rather than indifference, or worse, annoyance. 

He thinks for a bit longer then looks over to the waterfall when an idea forms in his head and he stands up, using his staff to aid in walking over to the moss covered wall. Taking in a deep breath, he calls up, “Wind?” There is nothing at first, not even a breeze but Jack is stubborn, brow furrowing and shouts, “Wind!” Then he hears it, a sharp whistle and a frigid breeze pours into the cavern, enveloping him in an embrace. Laughing, Jack hugs the element right back, loving the feeling of being swept up so carelessly though his body does protest a touch. Even though it has been weeks, probably closer to months now, since being struck by lightning, his skin still shows the damage from the strike. Dull purple lines run down his back and chest in a jagged pattern, much like a bolt of lightning, and his muscles still ache from time to time unless in the frigid water. 

“Hi, hi, I missed you too.” The wind is that of an overly eager feline, rubbing against his cheeks and trying to wrap him up further. For a few minutes he is content to be held in the air, relaxing before he finally says, “So, uh, I don’t know how to break this to you but, I'm not going to be able to see you as often.” There is a stillness then a low whistle, Jack being squeezed tighter and the winter sprite tries to explain, “Just listen, okay? I met someone and he kind of saved me from drowning. He’s really nice, and has been caring for me since I fell out of the sky.” His dear friend is silent, only holding him now and he bites his lip and tries to think on what else to say. The only thing he can think of is to give a nervous smile, “He’s an ocean creature, er, spirit? I don’t really know. It’s complicated.” 

Water splashes and Jack cannot help the grin on his face, twisting around to see a rather curious looking Pitch swimming up to the drop off, his arms folding on the sand as he stares at him. There is a questioning click that has him laughing and manages to get the wind to place him back onto the bank though his legs nearly buckle. He sways and frowns, seeing that it is still difficult for him to walk, and wonders briefly just how how much damage the strike really caused. Still he waves off that thought and goes over to the merman that watches with golden eyes, wing-like fins expanding out of the water a bit to show off the barbs. Admiring him, Jack shakes his head to clear his mind then begins to write in the sand, “The wind finally found me.” The usually still cavern is now lively with the constant presence of his friend that sweeps about, feeling out the walls and then the water. It ruffles their hair, causing a thoughtful look to form on the other’s face as he shakes his head, perhaps not so keen on the sensation of air pulling at wet hair. 

‘I see.’ There is a pause, a sort of tension coiling up in the male who stares up at him, eyes still very much gold and a bit guarded. ‘Will you be leaving…?’

Jack blinks in surprise and stares at the words before frowning, writing and speaking, “No, no, I just wanted to tell the wind where I was, and that I’m okay. And… I might not be able to go flying for a while.” Unblinking eyes stare up at him while the wind stops, going still in a manner that most would not realize it was even there. A little mournful sound goes through the cavern, one that has the boy wincing and quickly reaching up, “Please don’t make that sound. I know it’ll be lonely for a little bit, but you have the others to play with. The dragons in the arctic are always glad to have you in company, and I’m sure you could find another spirit to spend a lot of time with.” There is a whine this time, and Jack bites his lip and says, “I’m sure I can come and visit you. Not all the time, but sometimes.” The manner his friend acts makes his heart clench a bit, and his fingers try to comfort the shifting air, swirling and petting when he feels the smallest brushes of air. “I’ll finally have someone to talk to me. I know it’s sudden, but… I want this, I really do.” 

The Northern wind does not move for a long time, suspended and quiet until finally there is a whistle, calmer and sad but understanding. It brushes against his cheeks, and Jack smiles while trying to keep a few tears out of his eyes and he promises, “This isn’t goodbye or anything, but I know you don’t like being caged for very long.” To his relief he is wrapped up in another embrace, this one more desperate and clinging but he does not mind and returns it as best he can. 

A hand reaches up, clawed fingers curious as they feel about the opened space, Pitch tilting his head to the side as the air curls around his digits. A smile forms and Jack says as he writes into the sand, “I just wanted to find my long-time friend to say that I’m alright and happy, that’s all. And that it might be a little while before we can go flying again.” The male takes in his words and gains a look he cannot quite describe before Pitch eyes him and reaches out, palm upwards. Knowing the invitation, Jack gives one last pat the the wind and takes the hand, letting himself be pulled into the water. Just before he is submerged, the wind runs over his cheeks before it whistles, rushing back out the opening in the cavern to the vast sky. He takes a few seconds to enjoy the chilly water before taking in a deep breath and plunging underneath the water.

The merman is right there was well, fins now changing into content silver and hands find his hair, beginning to run through the strands even though there is not much point in the water. Still, the male does not care and begins to take out knots with sharp claws, before a baritone voice begins, “I have a series of questions for you now, Jack. A simple yes or no will do.” Nodding, the boy closes his eyes, enjoying the claws in his hair, and feeling far more relaxed than he has in weeks. “Do you still wish to be my companion?”

Nodding, he manages to let out a click, ‘Yes.’

“Is the ocean a…” He searches for the word, still having some difficulty in speaking and finding the proper words, “Sufficient home to you?”

This question makes him stop and think, comparing it to the familiar mountains and forests that he knows away from the water. It is far different, mysterious, but just as beautiful, if not, more so with its unexplored depths. Finally he nods again and lets out the same click as before. 

Fingers move to his cheeks, and lips press against his to feed him oxygen, something he gladly takes into his lungs. “Do you believe I can care for you and keep you safe?”

This question has him cracking open an eye with a look, not seeing a point in these inquiries but sees the seriousness on the merman’s face. ‘Yes.’ He drags out his click this time, something that causes a brief smirk and chuckle.

“I must ask, these are important, Jack. Now. If you could, would you change into a form such as my own?” This has his eyes snapping open in surprise, blue eyes wide and he starts to open his mouth but is stopped by a clawed finger against his lips. “This is why I must ask. You talk of flying, which would not be possible if you take a similar form as my own.” He blinks and stares at the merman, shocked at the idea of having fins and a gorgeous tail yet not being able to taste the sky again. 

Yet… He would be able to taste the depths of the ocean. 

This makes him stop and think, debating, since he has explored so much in the mountains and high in the sky, though almost always he has been shooed or even chased for miles on end. He has invaded many homes, many territories of other beings, all of which have not responded too fondly to his intrusion. Though kissing the sky is amazing, the idea of finding treasures deep in the depths of the ocean is so very tempting. Discovering places he has only vaguely heard rumors about, shipwrecks, underwater mountains, creatures only heard of in the whispers of sailors. 

He would be able to swim without the aid of anyone else. Unlike now where he has to rely on the wind to touch the clouds, which he does not mind but the idea of being able to go anywhere in the ocean with just his fins and tail… It is tempting. So very tempting. 

“You would be able to go anywhere in my territory, and possibly beyond if you wanted.” Silver-gold eyes peer into his own, and Jack can only stare back, listening to the low voice that paints so many possibilities, the strange long vowels and drag in the words becoming less noticeable, “There are many sights that very few can see or even imagine. Lost cities that have fallen or were taken by the ocean, ships with untouched treasures, and sea creatures that I can only attempt to describe to you.” 

Swallowing, it is such a big change, an idea that is both thrilling yet terrifying he looks up to the surface and motions upwards. The male frowns, fins fanning out and flashing between silver and gold but he wraps an arm around his waist and in the next second their heads are above water. Sucking in air, Jack kicks to the drop off but does not bother with getting out of the water, instead writing in the sand, “Could I ever go back to being like this? Being a human spirit and having legs?” Pitch stares at the questions, pressing up against his back, tail winding around his mentioned limbs.

‘In theory. But it could not be undone for you to become like myself again. If you truly are hesitant with the idea, you could remain as you are now, however… There would be long days, possible lunar cycles of us not seeing each other.’ This has him looking over his shoulder with a confused look, and more words are put into the sand, ‘I must patrol my territory to ensure any wanderers do not attempt to nest near or within my borders.’ 

He examines the words laid out so plainly and nibbles on his lip, debating on what to do before he looks up to the merman. “Well…” He stops and looks back to the neat cursive, then frowns and finally nods to himself. “I don’t want to be lonely anymore, Pitch.” He is turned around, his savior staring very intently at his face, and Jack goes to write into the sand but a hand takes his, entwining their fingers together. The webbing feels odd against his skin but he pays attention to the way he is being stared at, before a small smile forms on the other’s face. One that shows just the hint of fangs. A free hand cups his chin and lips press against his, the kiss soft and chaste and only lasting a few seconds. Blushing a touch, Jack swallows and looks to the cavern that has been his home for weeks now, then back at the elder being who motions for him to look at the sandy bank again.

‘You will not be lonely, Jack Frost.’ 

The words are so simple yet the spirit cannot help the eager smile on his face as he looks to the merman. “Promise?” Silver eyes flash gold for a brief moment then the male tips his head forward. “Then…” He grins and lets out a click. 

Pitch does not look away, continuing to take him in before there is a full grin on his face and lips eagerly press against his. When they part, he is being tugged towards the water but there is a pause from the boy who glances over his shoulder to his staff. Nibbling on his lip, he debates on grabbing it, but finds that it may just slow him down. The male sees where he looks and runs a finger over his cheek to bring his attention back onto him. “Will it still be here? I could come back for it?” There is a simple click, one that has his shoulders relaxing and Jack smiles a bit, allowing himself to be pulled underneath the water once he takes in a deep breath. An arm wraps around his waist and they are rushing out to the open water. 

Jack loses his sense of time, clinging to the merman who shows no signs of being hindered by him, only stopping on occasion to give him oxygen. He watches the water around, gasping and staring with wide eyes at the sights of dolphins and sharks swimming about. Most stay away from the male with the exception of a few curious dolphins though they too quickly take off when there is a flash of gold barbed fins. Occasionally he has to kick his own feet and shake his arms, just to keep them from falling asleep, his eyes at times drooping too. Clawed fingers tug at his hair whenever he is about to nod off, hard enough for him to focus and give a small smile in thanks. He notices that they are diving deeper and winces a bit at his ears popping. Minutes go by until finally they surface, only this time he cannot see a thing and tightens his hold a bit on Pitch. “We’re a ways from the surface, aren’t we?” 

He is answered with a click, and he nods and reaches out, at first feeling nothing until he leans all the way to the right to feel smooth walls, almost like polished marble. Hands find his waist and he is lifted out of the water and onto a cold stone perch. It feels smaller than the one he was at, and blinks uselessly. Before he can ask though, fins light up silver, letting Jack see all around him and that the cave he has been brought to seems small though the walls seem to be made out of marble or some kind of smooth rock. He tries to peer into the water but hands cup his cheeks before he can. 

Pouting, he sighs but then gives a smile, “What now?” Eyes that cannot decide on what color they want to be peer into his own, glowing in the darkness. Lips press up against his, and just as he opens his mouth, the tang of blood runs over his tongue, making him wince and almost pull away if not for hands cupping his face. He swallows without meaning to, the taste so strange and reminding him of the ocean but with a bitter undertone of metal. Jack reaches out, wrapping one arm around his neck, and before the other one can join, a hand takes his wrist, stroking his pulse. Stilling, Jack waits and notices that his arm is being tugged to the side, being held out when something brushes against his palm. His fingers flex before he can help it, and realizes that it must be the wing-like barbs when his skin is pierced. 

He exhales sharply through his nose and tries to twist away but he is held, fingertips stroking against his throat, massaging the muscles to get him to continue to swallow. His limbs begin to grow heavy, his eyes also beginning to fall shut though he cannot stop from peering into the swirling colored eyes that do not blink or look away. His arm is let go, put back to his side while is other is taken and pierced with the barbed fin as well, though he does not quite feel it as acutely. Pitch pulls away, blue-tinted blood on his own lips before there is movement he cannot see until the fins light up all over again. Through blurry vision he can see the male breaking off a small piece barb from his own fin before long claws scrape over a grey chest. Jack frowns, watching as blue-hued blood drips down into the water from the self-inflicted wounds. 

He tries to protest but his tongue is swollen against his lips, useless, and a soft look forms on the merman’s face who begins to let out soft whistles and murmurs. He cannot see, but feels fingers reaching up into his hair, and can feel a few strands being pulled out of his scalp. Keeping upright becomes a chore, arms hanging at his side and his chin resting on his own chest as he tries to pay attention to what is going on. With the light from shifting fins, he can make out a barb and what looks to be a scale, being tied together with a few strands of his hair, only serving to further bewilder the young spirit. 

Blue eyes begin to glaze over more with the last thing Jack sees is his shirt being pulled aside and the barb piercing the delicate skin above his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for not updating until now. Some things have been going on in my personal life with one of my dear friends and I having a large fight due to my social anxiety, and the aftermath has made me hesitant and skittish in posting any of my writings. 
> 
> I hope this is up to my usual standards, and if it is not, I hope the next chapter will be. There should be only one... Maybe two more chapters left. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed, darlings.


	7. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ocean is a terrifying place filled with ancient creatures many only believe to be found in myths.
> 
> Yet it is within the deep oceanic depths, that Jack finds his happiness.

Fingers card through his hair, the sensation of water cool against his skin, and soft clicking are all the things that Jack becomes aware of in short increments. His body does not quite feel right, bones throbbing and he winces in pain, his skin feels tight in a way it never has before. Nothing feels quite right on or even inside his own body, something that he does not like and tries to ignore. He tries to get a feeling of where he is but at at first he cannot see anything, eyes glazed over, shapes dark and difficult to understand. 

“Jack.” The talons in his hair trail down and cup his face, tracing unknown shapes or letters on his skin. His limbs hurt he realizes, especially his legs and a little whine bubbles out of his throat though it comes out as a whistle. Instantly he is hushed, murmurs and little clicks fill his ears, “You are fine, Jack. Focus on my voice.” He closes his eyes again then does as asked, paying attention to only Pitch until things do not feel so overwhelming. 

Minutes or hours could have gone by until he feels sound enough to actually open his eyes, relieved that he can actually see again. Pitch Black hovers over him, sharp eyes peering deep into his own before a small smile forms and the hands on his face leave to instead tangle into his hair. Blinking tiredly, he manages to get his lips to pull upwards as well and mumbles, “Hi…” He is surprised when water fills his mouth and panic lights in his eyes. He starts to thrash, only able to think that he needs to breath air or else he will drown and this will all be for nothing. 

Firm hands cup his face and he feels a smooth tail wrapping around him, Pitch right in front of him, pupils narrowing into slits, “Calm down, Jack. You are not drowning, breathe.” He whimpers the sound mournful to his own ears, unable to quite hear what is being told to him until his lungs begin to burn and his thrashes begin to die down. “Jack, Jack.” A series of clicks leave followed by concerned murmurs can barely be heard above the sound of his racing heartbeat. He needs to breathe, that is the one thing echoing in his mind. He just needs to make the burning go away and he cannot heed the call to hold his breath any longer. 

Taking in a deep breath of water and expects the feelings of drowning but only to get sweet relief to the burning in his lungs. The sides of his neck flex in a way he has never felt before and he feels water being drawn somewhere inside his chest then being expelled out by his gills. For a long moment he can only stare up at the merman that hovers anxiously, fingers are holding his face as low sounds reach his ears. They make little sense though his rapidly beating heart begins to calm and he slumps into the gentle palms on his face. 

“Just breathe.” His eyes flutter shut and he floats, losing a sense of time again. 

The next time he becomes aware again, he is in the same position, hands running over his cheeks and into his hair. He feels calmer than before especially with the knowledge that he never has to worry about drowning again. Once he takes in some more deep breaths he opens his eyes once more to peer up into wide golden eyes. The once winter sprite blinks a few times then manages a weak smile and murmurs, finding it strange he can talk underwater but not minding it one bit, “I’m okay. Sorry I just… I got scared.”

Pitch stares at him with big eyes, pupils dilating then becoming slits once more as he is given a hesitant nod of acceptance. Unable to help but feel a bit bad, he reaches up to offer similar affection to give comfort but stops short once he spots his hands that look so different. It is discording in a way, seeing his pale skin and thin fingers but the differences are glaring, deep blue scales glittering around his wrists that hide thin gills. Fingernails are now claws, longer than he has ever had with sharpened tips and he cannot help but spread his fingers to see the transparent webbing between them. 

Suddenly he wants to know all the changes and looks up, eyes a bit wide and twists away from the merman who gains a surprised expression. Jack tries his best to turn in the water, wanting to see what else has changed but his body aches when he attempts to do so and has to freeze at the pain racing down his spine. Hands are there when he winces, steadying him while a concerned click fills his ears. “You’re still adapting.” Leaning back into the comfort being offered, he lets the elder move him, relaxing and blinks in surprise when he is put in front of a long mirror. Before him is an image he does not recognize but does at the same time. His mouth parts as he stares at what he has become. 

Where a pair of legs were instead is a long tail, not nearly as long as Pitch’s but it is at least four or five feet long, covered in scales. Rather than having a tail similar to a thresher shark, Jack notices his is more like a whale, the flute a startling nearly transparent white. He attempts to move his legs and finds that though it is different, his now tail does flex and move. Deep blues and brilliant ceruleans like a sky after a storm has passed make up most of his scales with the icy hues mixed in, and he cannot help but think about how nice his colors look next to Pitch’s darker ones. Barbs run along the back of his tail, smaller but more abundant when compared to the older merman, looking almost harmless but when he touches them, they are sharper than needles. Certain anatomy between his legs is also missing making him reach out to touch his hips, frowning with a little confused look, one that causes a chuckle and Pitch murmurs against his ear, "The anatomy you are looking for is hidden for now." A hand moves to his hip, and motions to a slit he did not even notice with the many new changes. "When needed or when you become excited, it will show." He blushes and tries to ignore the fact they are talking about his penis and shoves that thought out of his mind, shaking his head and goes back to comparing himself to his companion. He sees the difference between the fins on his back and his companions, while Pitch has barbed ones that spread out like imposing wings, his appear delicate, almost like silk or lace.

He frowns and tries to figure out how to flare them out, only managing to sweep his tail back and forth as he twists, turning, wanting to see them. His companion lets out a confused click and he admits, “I don’t know how to make them move…” He motions to the dormant fins that seem to twitch on occasion but nothing more, causing a quiet chuckle. It takes another few minutes of experimenting and feeling out his body until the fins slowly lift up. They are just as white as the end of his tail and flow around him, lazily floating until he manages to flick them back and forth, amazed by their power for looking so easily tearable. Pitch presses close, and does not seem to mind the barbs as he wraps their tails together and Jack finds his breath catching in his lungs. The gills on the side of his neck and wrists flare at the sight of them side by side and tangled with each other. 

Such a stark difference between them, and he goes to open his mouth to ask a question when teeth tease his pointed ears that he notes are also longer than the other’s. “You look lovely, Jack… Beautiful.” He flushes, the usual blue tint and cannot help his fins from spreading out wide to nearly fill up the small space they are in. There is an urge he cannot explain to show off, to show his companion what he now looks like, and he does just that, flexing his blinding white fins. The reaction is instant, arms wrapping around him, running over his tail while the barbed winglike fins snap out in response. Lips trail down to his cheek and neck, tongue dancing over his gills that have him trembling and melting against the strong body. He finds shivers of pleasure racing down his body while his fins seem to only become brighter, not quite the shimmering lights that Pitch’s can be, but they do seem to gleam in the water. 

For a few moments he can only bask in the affection, reaching up to run his own clawed fingers through thick black hair. He strokes the locks and tangles his fingers there when fangs graze so lightly over his neck. Another whistle leaves his throat before he can help it before he gives a firm tug, feeling overwhelmed. When he is not give the space he quite wants, his fins wilt without his permission, the winglike ones on his back instantly becoming dormant and hugging his hips while his tail fin curls closer to his body. The moment this happens is when the fangs are gone and hands are gentle against his cheeks, Pitch filling his vision. “Forgive me, I could not keep from responding to your display.” 

The edge of panic is gone and Jack manages a weak smile, “It’s okay, just, that was a bit much. I don’t know what I’m even doing with my, uhm, tail. Or fins for that matter.”

His face is closely examined then he is given a slow nod and says, “You will have some odd feelings, urges, when around others of our kind.” Fingers move into his hair, preening the locks of any tangles and his baritone voice continues, soothing any lingering worries, “Near myself, there will be an urge to display, possibly engage in a dance.” Questions are already bubbling in his throat but he holds them back with a bite of the tongue. “When near unfamiliars you may wish to display though in a different manner. Make yourself appear larger, threatening, when faced with a possible threat.” It feels like so much as he turns back to the mirror, noticing that the only lights in the cavern seem to come from the bioluminescent coral hugging the walls. Only he can see everything just fine, and feels he may not even need the colorful lights to make out his form.

“Why am I so different from you? My tail and fins aren’t like yours.” While maybe not the most dire of questions he has, it is the first one he can blurt out.

One hand rests on his waist in a comforting weight while the other reaches out to trail claws over his flowing fins, a sensation that has him keening. It is impossible to describe in proper words. Having claws and smooth skin touch a part of him he has just grown is strange yet addicting, it reminds him of when Pitch strokes his arms only more intense. He leans more against the merman as he speaks, clicks flowing into English words, “Do you remember when I explained my kind? How some are sires, and others are carriers?” Nodding he meets ever shifting eyes in the mirror as fangs move to tease his ear again, “You have characteristics more common in a carrier because I would be the sire should we decide to ever have nestlings. If you were more dominate or if I was less so, you may have features found more on a sire or a pleasant mix.” 

Tipping his head to the side, he regards himself, then the tail that is still wound a bit against his, the differences are stark and clear. “What’s the point of these differences though? Wouldn’t it make sense for me to have a shark...ish tail too? For swimming fast?” Just going off what he has seen with the merman, and experienced first hand, his companion can rival the speed of even the Northern wind when the ocean is calm and clear. 

A chin rests on his shoulder, bringing his attention to the fact he has small patches of scales that dot along his skin but seem to cluster around his collarbone. “You will be able to swim just as fast, your fins are merely more… Decorative compared to mine. Meant to entice rather than intimidate.” Fingers trail down to his dormant fins that barely flutter at his sides, “Carriers are more likely to protect the nest and any young that may be within the nest, on the other hand sires usually prefer to patrol the territory and keep potential threats away.” Lips trace the points of his ears, causing a little shiver to run through his spine. He thinks about everything being told to him and finds it fascinating, glancing over to his shoulder to meet those ever-changing eyes. “Because of the more appealing features carriers have and when they are near, a nest is by, others of our kind are far more likely to leave them.” 

Jack thinks about all of this information and at his fins then shakes his head, meeting the other’s eyes fiercely, “Just because I might look more fragile doesn’t mean I am.” A rather pleased grin forms on the male’s face as a low click echoes in the cavern. 

“Good. Now, do you want to swim with me, Jack Frost?” He is not given a chance to agree or deny the inquiry, hand catching his as he is pulled off to the side and through an opening. Trying to taken in his surroundings is difficult and the once winter spirit decides it is easy to explore what might be his new home after he has seen what this new form can do in his new element. Suddenly they are in open water, and Jack can barely keep the shock off his face as he sees just what they have emerged from. He cannot help the laugh bubbling from his lips, not thinking as he flicks his tail to take in the size of the iceberg. 

The size is massive, bigger than islands he has seen and he lets his fingers glide against the smooth walls. “We’re living in an iceberg? That’s… Amazing. But it’s going to keep drifting, is it not?” He glances over his shoulder to the male that gives a sharp smile, tail lazily flicking back and forth as he moves closer. 

“No, it will not.” As usual questions burst in his mind but he holds his tongue and instead presses his hands firm against the walls. It takes a few seconds before the familiar tingling within his fingers before he adds another ice sheet to the face of the iceberg. Excitement sparks in his eyes when he sees he still has his abilities, the giddiness making him laugh and grin over to his companion. 

“Good. I think I can keep it from melting then. And maybe make more rooms or make it look nicer.” His eyes widen and he whips around, fins flaring up without his permission, “We could be one of the few in the entire ocean to have an ice fortress to live in!” 

Amusement dances in Pitch’s eyes who says, “I am pleased you like the outside of our nest. It is why I was gone for so long.”

“You were looking for a place for us to live?” He looks over to the elder merman who stares back, unblinking and is given a simple nod. Jack stares then looks back at the iceberg and can only feel a swell of affection and giddiness. He lets out a laugh as he zips about, not able to control the way his fins flare out and shimmer in pleasure at having such a unique home, and is suited perfectly for him. A home that he can help with keeping up and insuring it does not melt away into nothing, an idea that he finds he loves. Being able to use his abilities still and have a reason to, rather than having them fall to the wayside. Twisting around, he swims back to the elder, nearly slamming into him if not for a quick snap of his tail, plumed fluke slowing him down. 

He smiles at the elder who stares back, calm as ever as he leans back and flicks his tail, fins lighting up gold, then silver, and Jack does not keep his gut reaction at bay. He follows, taking his time but allowing his tailfin to expand as wide as it can, the ones near his back doing the same. A pleased and oddly awed look forms on Pitch’s face, the merman letting out a complicated series of chirps and clicks. Fighting down the urge to blush at the sounds, the now glacial merman tries to mimic what he can remember from the first time he was in the water with this stunning male. While not quite as graceful as he would hope but figuring out his new body, the boy manages to swim in a wide circle, feeling how to do so with his arms and new limbs. As he gets more confident, he swims closer around the elder, letting the startling white of his fins slashing through the water, the edges gaining a lovely royal blue color as he attempts to impress his companion. 

The clicks from before grow louder and lower in a strange crooning noise that has shivers racing throughout his body. Without even realizing it, he mimics what he hears, voice quieter from the unfamiliar language but even so it seems to excite and make the song louder in his ears. From the corner of his eye, he sees Pitch beginning to move as well, long ebony colored tail cutting into the water as he follows the circle then breaks the pattern, swimming up then plunging down, creating a different circle. 

Still, Jack finds himself determined to continue his odd dance though turns his body to let the tips of his fluke tease lovely scales of ebony, scarlet and violet, smiling widely when he spots a little tremble from his touches. He is rewarded with fins lighting up and flashing rapidly as his companion swims closer with each loop he makes until they are constantly brushing against one another. The touches are quick but frequent, teasing in nature and only have him wanting to break away to be wrapped up in the addicted feeling of scales and skin. 

As he debates on breaking this pattern, the decision is made for him when Pitch breaks free of their dance, swimming up before twisting his body and spreads out his winged barbs. They flex, arcing out wide, webbed barbs flashing blinding silver as the shark-like tailfin is that of a rich gold before Pitch dives. He barely has time to react as he is caught in a pair of strong arms, and in the next moment they are spiraling into the depths.

Flipping over and over, Jack cannot help the laughter bubbling in his chest, feeling free in a way he has only managed to find when being carried by the Northern wind. He finds himself tangled up in Pitch in every way possible, tail sliding his own while barbed wings reach out to hold his hips, sliding the tips along his own flowing ones. Lips press against his neck while hands reach up to tangle into his hair and he can only hold on, thrilled and breathless as they fall into the ocean.

He returns the embrace and presses closer as they come to a slow stop, suspended between the pure darkness of the ocean bottom and the sparkling sunlit surface. Lifting his face, he meets a pair of eyes that cannot seem to decide on what color they wish to be and Pitch is talking at last though he still lets out clicks between some words, “Stunning, my own, never has one danced for me with….” There is a long series of clicks and whistles, ones that are getting more familiar though the younger still has no basis for them on what they could mean. Finally words he can understand flow from the baritone voice he adores, “Passion, determination, your words cannot properly express what I wish to say.” 

Blue tints his cheeks as he settles for hanging onto the elder and lets out a little laugh, “I get what you’re trying to say though. And… Thank you, Pitch Black.” He gets a bewildered look and gives a smile, leaning up to press a soft kiss against thin lips, “For picking me to be your companion.” 

The hands around him still as do the fins before Jack is swept away, this time rocketing back up towards the iceberg. He finds himself inside of it and then being pulled into a large chamber and finds himself actually out of the water, at least partly. Pitch lays him down on a bed of soft linens, that while are damp from the water all around, are not uncomfortably so. He realizes that the bed sits on a ledge that has been carved out by possibly claws, long and away from the water enough that the cloth does not get wet, and brings comfort to their torsos but keeps their tails within the water. Along the walls are coral that light the room in soft greens and blues, while knick knacks line the walls on other ledges, books and shining pieces of gold and silver encrusted with jewels. Before he can continue peering about, fingers touch his cheek and have him looking upwards to meet the handsome merman that has soft eyes. Little clicks and low whistles leave Pitch, sounds that only have him relax further into the carefully constructed bed, his fins fanning out. 

“There is no need to thank me. I’m merely happy you agreed, and are letting me keep you.” Hands reach up to tangle into his hair as the larger male covers him with his body, a pleasant weight and lips press against his cheek, fangs pricking the skin before being soothed by a smooth tongue. “I shall treasure you always, Jack Frost.” Jack shivers underneath the affection and turns his head just right to capture questing lips with his own, letting his own clawed fingers move to tangle into jet black hair.

Lips part open as tongues seek each other, slow and exploring, the younger feeling his way and takes in the changes to himself, wincing when he knicks his own flesh with small fangs. The hurt is easy to ignore as a tongue rubs over the cut, and he finds himself unable to keep from pressing forward, loving the affection and intimacy being offered. Little shudders race along his skin from all the attention, unable to keep his winged fins from reaching out and running down dark colored scales. Pitch in return twines their tails further together, making it nearly impossible to tell where he begins and where his companion ends. The kiss grows more passionate, slowness being replaced by eager lips and playful bites, fingers moving out of hair to trace down to gills and shoulders, causing quiet moans to pass out of kiss swollen lips. Jack’s eyes crack open, becoming hazy as he meets a swirling kaleidoscope of gold and silver that can only belong to the eyes of the creature that has his heart. Giving a smile and leaning up to ask for more kisses, Jack cannot help one last thought before being swept away in the intimate touches that have him keening and quivering.

He is relieved he fell from the sky, because he can say with confidence, for the first time in his life he feels complete and knows the lonely nights he is used to are in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wait was long, but so is the chapter. I struggled a bit with this one, in wanting and debating to break it up until I realized how long you lovelies were waiting on it. So I decided to just post one big, long chapter.
> 
> I hope it was worth the wait!
> 
> This is more than likely the end to this little tale. I might do a little epilogue later on how Jack has adjusted or something along those lines, but that's up in the air right now.
> 
> I have a few ideas floating around, possibly with Pitch being a Naga or a Dragon, I'm not entirely sure yet. 
> 
> Anyway! Thank you so much to everyone who has given me such support on this story, I never expected it to blow up as large as it did. Then again, I said the same thing for Child of the Moon and look at how huge that story got! My goodness you darlings are simply wonderful. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this strange, strange little story of mine, and I hope to write something else all of you will enjoy just as much. :)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know. I really don't, I was reading some wonderful stories of others in fandoms with characters being mermen, and well. My little mind decided that we need a Merman Pitch Black. Hope you don't mind darlings, I know it's strange. Plus I needed something a bit less heavy then my other story, Fracture, and well, I just started writing at 5 am. 
> 
> This is what came out. 
> 
> Uhm, this will maybe be 3-4 chapters, but the chapters should be decently long so there is that. I hope this is at least somewhat enjoyable.


End file.
